Worlds Apart Minds Meet
by MiLa63
Summary: Sherlolly short, Dragon!Lock with Maid!Molly. Set during medieval times, without much care to the accuracy of it. Updated 12/6


A/N: A guest mentioned this story wasn't finished, and I realized he/she was right. So, newly updated with an actual ending.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, or the characters used below.

Worlds Apart, Minds Meet

Molly's deep chocolate doe eyes darted around the room. Only two times has she been called to the princess's quarters since she was promoted last spring. Both times were emergencies that were out of her depth. She was only the first handmaiden to the princess; a position highly coveted by every young lady, yes, but of no major talents. Her parents had been healers, so over the course of her childhood she had picked up some tricks and habits. However, this was nothing that warranted a special place. Now, before her, Princess Mary, a 20 year old woman with sharp blue eyes, lounged in the floral chaise. A certain level of trust had developed between them. Her blond hair was always kept short for (Molly knew) the princess adored learning the fighting techniques used by the knights. Fencing, archery, and knife tossing were only a few on the list that the princess chose to acquaint herself with. The only knight willing to teach her such unwomanly things was Sir John. He was not the head of the knights, nor was he was so handsome that all the young maidens would swoon after him. His short stature matched with his common face did not make him a prize to be won. However, Molly saw the way the princess would scan down from his ashen blond locks, over his chain-mail, giving a slight smile when his warm ocean eyes returned her gaze. As he was doing now. Molly was almost embarrassed for them. A gruff voice spoke in the cold room. Sir Lestrade, head of the knights, made his way over to the princess. Bending on one knee, he held her delicate but calloused hand.

"Your highness, I beg of you. Do not go away to the country. It would be unsafe and unwise. If you are within the city's walls, at least then, we can protect you fully." Molly knew officially she had missed something.

"Sir Lestrade, we both know that walls are nothing when it comes to the sharp spikes of a dragon's jaw." Princess Mary gradually removed her hand from Sir Lestrade's grasp.

A d-d-d-dragon?! Molly was concerned before, but now she knew she was panicking. Mysterious deaths of guards being found in the oddest places seemed odd to Molly when she first heard of it. However, if a dragon was here, then there is no question that a few gusts from those massive wings would allow him to place a guard anywhere, even on the roof of the tallest tower (the latest one).

Suddenly everything was connecting in her mind, and she unconsciously let out a small gasp. The room's attention turned to her. She felt the need to explain her discomfort. "I -I - I didn't know d-d-dragons were real." She said the first thing that came into her mind.

A lusty laugh from the corner of her eye made her turn slightly. "Oh dear, oh dear. Of course dragons are real. Has no one informed the little handmaiden of the situation? She looks just starving for information." The woman who spoke was the adopted daughter of the richest Lord of the Royal Court, Lady Irene. Molly lowered her head, reminded of her small station in life.

"Oh, I apologize, Molly," Mary started, almost forgetting her place. "I should have informed you earlier. A dragon has been taking out all the guards on the perimeter of the castle. We are trying to devise a plan to stop him."

"And I suggested you go to the country castle. Once there, if the dragon wishes to be civil, you can sit down and discuss the situation. If he has other plans, the knights will do their best to protect you. However, there is great risk to this plan, I know," the knight called Donovon informed everyone. Molly had her suspicions that Donovon was the first knight to be a woman, but neither Sir Lestrade nor Princess Mary made any acknowledgment of the sort.

"I suggested she just stay here and wait it out. Maybe offer a cow or something to pacify the beast." Sir Anderson was always the first to speak and the last to think, Molly thought to herself. Molly, however was the opposite.

"What do you think, Molly?" Princess Mary never wished to make a decision right away, Molly remembered. She was trying to buy herself time.

"Personally, I agree with Sir Anderson," a stunned silence fell around the room. No one ever agrees with Sir Anderson. "I think the goal should be to pacify the dragon. However," a sigh of relief, "the creature seems to be targeting humans, not animals. Therefore, I highly doubt a cow would suffice. However, we cannot continue sacrificing our people to his appetites, whatever they may be," Molly dared glance in the direction of Lady Irene. She was known for her morbid and dark tastes, but Molly was never courageous enough to determine what exactly that meant. "I then agree with Sir Donovan. If we can attempt to pacify the dragon while in an area with less people, there is a reduction in potential harm to others. However, the risk is greater to both you and the castle here. Ultimately, you have to draw this dragon out. Find out what his goal is, and then work to meet it with the least amount of harm." She paused to gauge the responses. Most were silently waiting for a final acknowledgment from the princess. Molly took her chance to make one final point. "Understandably, you can't possibly be sure to draw him out if you go to the country. I suggest you leave the majority of the knights here to protect the city if the dragon doesn't follow you, but take your best knights with you in the country in case he does." Molly took a step back as a way to punctucate her final sentiment.

Sir Lestrade's face grew slightly more red as he stood. "Margaret Hooper, you are only a servant, as a servant, your input in strategic matters is not appreciated." He stopped speaking when Mary put her hand on his arm as she too stood up.

"I have decided," she stated strongly for the whole room to know to shut up. "I am going to follow my friend," she pointedly glanced as Sir Lestrade, "Molly's suggestion. I will take a small party to the country castle with me. Sir Lestrade, you and what's left of your men will stay here to look after the city." She smiled her arrogant smile, knowing she was going to get her own way. She had won. "Molly, Lady Irene, Sir Donovan, Sir John, Lord Stamford, and Lord Brooke will come with me. Sir Lestrade and Sir Anderson, stay here along with the rest of the knights. That is all." She waved her hand to dismiss the group. Molly approached the princess her head still bowed.

"Your highness, you mistakenly mentioned my name when you listed those to come with you," she was about to say when suddenly Princess Mary gave her a hug. This was a highly unusual occurrence, so Molly decided against saying anything.

"I am so glad I have a friend like you, Molly. Thank you," the princess whispered into the servant's ear.

A week of travelling allowed her to get to know her companions more than she ever needed to. Each Knight and Lord had their own servants to carry their items, and Molly's job was never done. She attempted to socialize more with the servants than the masters, but Princess Mary's demands never ended.

Eventually they arrived at the country castle.

On her first night there, Molly could not sleep for the quietness of the place allowed howling winds to interrupt her dreams. A sense of foreboding had overshadowed her sleep since they left for the trip, but since no word had come detailing more killings, the group reasoned the murderous dragon was following them. She tiptoed down the illustrious hallway, knowing even so the cobblestones underneath the thick velvet rug would not disturb the serenity of the castle. As she reached the large kitchen, she saw a window facing a meadow. The darkness outside was highlighted by the presence of the small moon. As she gazed lazily out the window, a tall dark figure started to cross the green meadow. A large cloak was billowing behind this man shape, and as he got closer to the open window, Molly started unconsciously taking steps backwards until she ran into the tapestry on the wall behind her. He jumped through the open window with a grace Molly had only seen in birds flying from one tree branch to another. He approached her like a predator, blue-green eyes burning. She felt her heart flutter at the sudden sound of his baritone voice.

"Who. Are. You." Not even a question, really. Molly swallowed furiously.

"M-M-My," she forgot to breathe. "M-Molly. My name is Molly Hooper" she spit out. The man still eyed her curiously. "I am the head handmaiden to Princess Mary." The man's dark garb gave Molly no indication whether or not he would know Princess Mary or not.

A small sigh escaped his lips. "Good." He turned with a flair of his cloak, walking down the hall away from the kitchen. She lingered, frozen in place by this mysterious man. Unsure if she was dreaming or not, she left to go back to her room, completely forgetting the reason for leaving her bed in the first place.

When Molly awoke the next morning at dawn, she wandered into the kitchen once more. Memories of what she thought she had dreamed there last night flooded back to her. A tall, brooding, lovely man. Only she would dream of such nonsense. Her cheeks ran a deep red as blood rushed to her face. There he was, once again. Now clearly in trousers and a flowing white long-sleeve shirt, he sat back in a chair, chewing an apple. His eyes glanced at her as she entered the kitchen, now standing frozen once more. His countenance flashed a look of amusement before hiding behind a cold mask.

"Oh, Molly," Sir John stated as he walked past her into the kitchen. "Meet my friend, Sherlock. He is a special adviser to the princess, but he hates the city," turning to his friend, he stated, "Sherlock, this is Molly Hooper, a handmaiden for the princess. Now be nice. She's only 18."

"Head." Sherlock had no other response as he closed his eyes, taking another bite.

"What?"

"Head handmaiden. We have already met."

Molly's blush deepened as she decided that she had no real need for breakfast anymore. Turning, she heard Sir John's voice say, "Sherlock, look what you've done! I told you to be nice!"

Back in a comfortable position as handmaiden to the princess, Molly was helping Princess Mary tie up her elegant seafoam green gown. "Have you met Sherlock, yet? He's bound to be around here somewhere. I'm guessing that is why you are so quiet this morning." Princess Mary was far too smart to hide anything from. That was why she went through head handmaidens so quickly. Molly blushed slightly at the mention of his name.

"Oh, I did encounter him last night in the kitchen. I have to say, I was a bit startled when he suddenly asked who I was despite not having anyone introduce us." She hoped that would be enough to explain away the color at her cheeks. Mary only smiled, knowing how intense her friend can be. The three of them, John, Sherlock, and her had gone through an ordeal that would tie them together forever. But that was a story for another day.

"What do you think of him so far?" Mary teased, knowing Molly was always the one pinning for another in the background.

"I find him to be quite charming," Molly said to the surprise of them both. Molly giggled, letting off the tension she felt since the kitchen this morning. Mary joined in, feeling like a young schoolgirl again.

"Well, that is good."

With Princess Mary completely ready for the day, Molly was free to roam. She desperately hoped that she would and would not run into the special adviser for the princess. After opened five different doors in two different corridors, she finally found the one thing she truly desired. A library. Molly knew Princess Mary would never go far from her vast collection of books, a trait which Molly delighted in. Molly stepped delicately into the library, appreciating the sanctity of the place. She ran her hand along the spines like an insomniac feels the plush joy of a soft bed. She found a title of interest, pulling it out and blowing away gently the thin layer of dust. She smiled to herself as she opened the brown cover.

"Not what I would have expected, Maid Hooper." The sound of his chilly, but still slightly amused voice made her jump. She turned to find him standing over her, with a similar-looking book under his arm.

"I-I-I'm sorry," she started to put the book back on the shelf.

"Tis not my library. You may choose what book you please." A half smile danced on his lips after he sat his own book down. Her eyes could barely leave his as he put his other arm to reach under hers. He used one finger to pull the book back out, using the others to feel her pulse.

She swallowed, trying to regain some level of control over herself. Her mind wandered to a place where he would lower his head ever so slightly to press his warm lips against hers. She physically shook her head. She was a mere handmaiden and he a special adviser. Far too different to ever even think of such things. She pulled her hand away from his and left the room. She would try again before dinnertime.

A few hours later, all the Lords and Ladies sat in the grand hall, eating lunch. Molly stood behind the princess in order to grab her anything she required. Her eyes ever so gradually fell to the man sitting next to the princess. His obsidian curls jostled back and forth as he agreed with what princess Mary was saying. He had barely eaten anything off his plate, so he motioned to the servant standing behind him to remove his plate. Only a few moments after that, Princess Mary did the same. As Molly approached to take the plate from the same side as the special adviser sat, she could feel her heart start to pound.

She reached her hand down, only to have it taken into the grasp of the man. "Princess, you have quite the treasure here in a handmaiden. In the library she picked out a medical journal to read as a past time." He stated, lowly enough so only the three could hear him.

Princess Mary's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Is that right, Molly?" Molly nodded silently. "Well, she does come from a line of truly remarkable healers in the next village over. Did you once tell me that?" Another nod. "It would not surprise me if you have learned something over that time."

"Where are your parents now?" His voice sounded casual, but strained, as he finally let go of Molly's arm.

"All of my family is dead." No use hiding it. Both her parents had died after she left their hometown in order to find her own path in life.

His eyes widened slightly at the brutal honesty of the statement, but he said nothing further. As Molly's eyes raised over the rest of the table after picking up the plate, she saw Lady Irene looking at her intently.

Princess Mary rose from her chair to make an announcement to the room. "Ladies and Lords, I am very happy that we have all arrived in one piece. However, now that everyone is settled, I think it is time to discuss the reason why we are here. If you are finished, please join me in the drawing room." Molly was sure that the princess did not mean her, yet as she turned to leave, the princess said, "You too, Molly. Don't make me get someone to drag you in there." The princess winked at the handmaiden.

Molly stood along the back wall near the door while the group discussed what to do about the dragon. Sherlock seemed to be a special adviser because of his extensive knowledge of dragons, as well as his generally vast intelligence. Molly adored watching him command the room to discuss options, shooting down other people's opinions, and timely reaching a conclusion. When he finally realized what must be done, his face lit up. Princess Mary knew he had an idea on a solution, but since he did not immediately blurt out his idea, she reasoned he would discuss it in private. While she did trust her other advisers, she knew sometimes certain ideas were better worked out behind closed doors. She dismissed the group. It was time for dinner again, which repeated the same process, only without Sherlock's grabbing of Molly. He merely sat in silence, shutting out the world and not eating.

After dinner, Molly ventured to the library again. Sherlock seemed to be so focused during dinner, that she hoped he would not need a reprieve such as reading. As she walked down the corridor, she heard a symphony of silken voices travelling from one of the bedrooms. Sherlock's to be exact.

"It won't always be this way, you realize. One day, I'm going to move on and your bed will be left cold. Just as cold as you are. Do you really want that? Or would you rather have a little handmaiden at your disposal? They all are so dim-witted enough to be easily manipulated." Lady Irene. Molly hesitated passing the ajar door, so she stopped on the wall next to it. She didn't want to listen in, but felt it rude to possibly disturb them by walking by, or at least that was what she told herself.

"I think we would both be surprised on that front. And you forget, Lady Irene. My bed was cold before you made any of your generous offers. It will be cold after you leave, which you will, one day. In fact, that one day can be today, if you wish. It would certainly make sleeping arrangements easier. Caring is not an advantage. I believe you have overstayed our welcome. In more ways than one." Molly's hand went up to her throat. Lady Irene was known to have multiple affairs at once, but with the special adviser? Yes, he was gorgeous and brilliant, but he didn't seem too interested in settling down or even an affair for that matter. Something in his mannerisms seemed exceedingly put off by that sort of interaction.

Molly heard a disgruntled huff. How many times had Lady Irene been told, "no"? Molly wondered. Lady Irene stormed out of the room, turning down the hallway opposite where Molly was stationed. Molly sighed a slight puff of relief, only to be dragged into the room previously vacated by the woman.

She stared into the face of the high-cheekbone man. Molly stared, instantly hypnotized by the strangest sight. The clear, aquamarine gaze that held her bled golden rays around the black iris. She remembered herself, struggling against the arms holding her in place. Glancing up at his eyes once more, she saw them start to turn a darker blood-red amber hue. Molly's curiosity getting the best of her, she leaned in to watch the change.

Sherlock understood what she was seeing, and took a step away from her letting her go. He heaved a deep sigh, aware of his potentially compromising position.

"What are you?" Molly asked quietly. No human could change their eye color so dramatically and instantaneously.

Sherlock's chuckle resounded in the large room. "You continue to surprise me, Maid Hooper. Why don't you guess?" The sly half-grin returned on his face, as he took the lounge chair nearest him.

Molly took a deep breath. She was at his mercy now. If she guessed correctly, there was a chance he would admire her for her wit or kill her for learning his secret. She decided to take that chance. "Well, to be honest," he noticed she had stopped stammering around him (much to his delight), "The only guess I can make is a dragon. I have heard tales of how they could change shape. It is not unreasonable, I suppose, to believe they could take a human form."

"Why is it the only guess you can make?" Amusement still danced on his features.

"Well, in the meeting, you knew more than anyone about the creatures, uh about the dragons. Even all the old history books of legends and tales do not describe as much as you about their abilities. However, you left out the one fact that I do know, which means you wish to keep it a secret."

"Or I found that part entirely unnecessary to repeat."

"Yes, or that," Molly decided to take the couch across from the strange man.

"Either way, only a dragon could know as much as you do about dragons. Seeing as how you hate the city, associate with only a few, it is unlikely it is a dear friend. Especially since I know Sir John, and he is definitely not a dragon." Molly tried to give a small smile tot he powerful creature in front of her, hoping to secure a sense of loyalty or understanding between them.

"Are you afraid of me?" Sherlock leaned forward, his eyes threatening to change once more. He lowered his voice to scare her, satisfyingly noticing her shivers on the couch.

However, she defiantly looked up at him. "No." She left the word hang in the air between them. "Princess Mary and Sir John both trust you immensely, both being smart enough to notice if something was off about you. That must mean that they know your secret, yet feel no fear around you. So why should I fear you?" Molly never dared to speak so courageously against anyone higher than a fellow servant, yet this challenge seemed to amuse him. She would play along, as long as her life was not threatened.

He smiled fully this time, dropping all pretense of a cold calculating mask. "You are a unique one, Miss Hooper. Very unique. However, I find until.." he dropped his line of thinking. "Until I know you can be trusted, I think it best not to associate with me. Best not to tell Mary or John your knowledge of my secret either." He stood, and gracefully existed his own bedroom. Molly sat in stunned silence for a few minutes until she quietly got up and left, continuing her journey to the library.

The next few days passed quietly, until there was word of a visitor coming to the castle. Molly never paid much attention to the goings-on of the nobles, as they always seemed to be disagreeing over something. When Molly returned to her small room that night, two men were bickering in hushed tones.

"Yes, we can trust her. I checked with her last village. My suspicions were correct. She just needs to awaken her powers, and we can finally defeat Moriarty for once and for all." Sherlock's baritone voice was raised slightly in pitch, but still held the same power of Molly.

A stranger responded. "Yes, but brother dear you cannot force her powers to awaken. That could prove deadly for her." Molly swallowed. Deadly? What powers? Where they talking about her? Why were they in her room? She pressed on the door slightly to make them aware of her presence.

"Ah, Miss Hooper," the taller gentleman responded. He was about the same size as Sherlock, but wore much more official clothing. He must be a noble or at least related to one. His straight sandy brown hair contrasted with Sherlock's curls.

"Molly," Sherlock grabbed her elbows to bring her into the room. He closed the door behind her and released her. She was too stunned at his use of her Christian name to say anything in response. "We need your help. The only way to defeat the dragon that is terrorizing your country is through you." It sounded as if Sherlock was prepared to continue rattling off the details of his extensive plan until his brother intervened.

"Miss Hooper, allow me to introduce myself. Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock is my younger brother. I am told you are aware of our species as well as the national predicament." He nodded towards her to get a verbal response.

"Oh, yes. I am aware." She looked between the two. "What exactly is your position, Mr. Holmes?" she wished to return the polite formality the brother initiated.

The two chuckled as silently as they could. "That is of no importance at the moment. What matters right now, is for your to learn your heritage. Please sit," he motioned to her plain bed.

"Molly, you need to know. Even if your powers do not awaken yet, you need to understand your importance. You see, in your blood lies the last of a group of special human beings called the moontradi. In all my years, I have never met one of your people. They were known for their magical healing powers by the humans, but the dragons knew better. The moontradi had the magical ability to control the dragons. There was a common magic that flowed between them. This magic flows through you. This was why you were able to see my eye color change. It was happening because you were there, forcing me to start to change into my dragon form." Sherlock had been pacing. At this, he turned to look at the absolutely shocked woman on the bed.

Molly had been trying to control her mannerisms until this point. She stood up, "What?" She forgot that most of the other servants were already asleep.

"Please, keep your voice down. The last thing we need is that Moriarty hearing about you." Mycroft stated with a disdainful air.

"Mycroft is right, Molly. We need to keep you a secret from everyone else, including Mary." Sherlock's voice was lower than a whisper. Molly suddenly felt conflicted as she sank back onto the edge of her bed. How was she to know she had some special magical blood? Then a logical thought found itself to the forefront of her mind.

"You said it could be deadly if I tried to awaken my powers too soon. What do you mean?" She looked up to the stoic pair of brother dragons.

"Miss Hooper, Sherlock clearly wishes to devote himself for the next indeterminate amount of time to assist you in awakening your gifts. However, if you were to call him forth without the adequate level of control on either party's side, he could consume you."

"Mycroft," Sherlock's scowl was vicious. "Of course I would not _eat_ Miss Hooper." He scoffed while rolling his eyes. "I'm not that much of an animal."

Molly had only the strength to take a deep breath. "When do we start?" Sherlock smiled.

It was impossible to sleep that night, Molly found. Every time her eyes fell, her mind enacted the worst outcomes for this "training" of hers, intermingling with the smirk of the handsome man who would forever invade her dreams.

The next morning at sunrise, she walked to the point in the nearby woods where Sherlock and her agreed to meet the night before. As she trudged through the wild grasses and trees surrounding her, a stone of guilt settled at the pit of her stomach. She knew her only real skills were aiding Princess Mary. Now, she was even abandoning that. Thankfully, she knew Sherlock's brother had enough influence to move people around to fill her gap.

She got to the clearing while a few birds flew overhead. She looked up, hope starting to pacify her mind.

"Because this is the first day, I understand the need to ease into this. Your gifts are like a muscle, needing time and practice to strengthen." The silky voice from behind her gave Molly shivers down her spine.

She turned around to face the gorgeous man. "Ok. So what should we do first?" His eyes scanned her face, noticing the slight hints of her restless sleep.

"First, I want you to recognize the beginning signs of change and work to suppress them. This will help later on when dealing with the full body change." She nodded. He took a hesitant step closer. "So, I will begin to change, once you see my eyes darken, I want you to _will_ me to be human." His eyes burned into hers.

A sense of panic overwhelmed her. "Wait, you're starting now?!" She tried to take deep breaths, stepping backwards further into the clearing.

"Yes, of course. I thought that was obvious." His eyebrow went up in slight confusion at her very emotional reaction. Was she going to begin every session like this? he wondered.

She took two more deep breaths. Her worst nightmare was giving room to come to life. She shook her head. This wasn't a dream, she had to remind herself. I can do this, she attempted a mantra. Molly turned her eyes back to the mesmerizing blue ones. She swallowed the rest of her fear, flashes of the dead guards, Princess Mary, and Sir John flashing through her memory.

As she stared, she saw the ridges of amber invade the bright pond. Stop it, she said in her mind. Just stop. She mentally pushed her inmost compassionate will towards him. Human, be human. Please. Her internal monologue was growing more passionate. The amber was filling about half of his pupils. She pushed the word towards him with all her heart. STOP. At that, the amber fled. Her heart leaped with joy. "Yes! I did it!" She smiled earnestly for the first time since her father died.

Sherlock's slightly amused grin disappeared a second after it appeared. "Good. Again." For the next hour, the two gazed into each other's eyes. A forlorn arrow flew into a tree twenty paces from the couple. Sir John chuckled to himself as he maneuvered around the brush to grab Princess Mary's arrow. He glanced beyond the tree to see the maid and his friend standing close to each other. Sherlock's eccentricities always astounded his friend, but somehow John believed that the dragon side of Sherlock would never allow him to look at a human as anything more than a friend. To see him gazing, yes gazing, at this human astounded him. His jaw fell down. A few moments passed with the three frozen in their spots before John regained his original purpose. Grabbing the arrow, and allowing himself one last silent chuckle to himself, he turned and attempted to creep back to the wooded archery range.

When Sir john returned, he handed the arrow back to Princess Mary. He grinned, knowing what Princess Mar had already suspected. "You're going to love what I just happened upon," he started, a slight chuckle ready behind his words.

The dance of blue and golden red streaks continued, until suddenly Molly felt drained. The sun was high, and the mansion nearby was bustling with life. "Do you have a tail?" Molly spoke, breaking the hours-long silence between them. The face she had been enamored with endured a look of surprise for a moment before it passed back into the previously stony countenance.

"Yes. Why?"

Molly sighed, breathing in and appreciating the smell of grass and pine surrounding her. Then, his scent reached her. It was smokey and spicy. Just the thought of her smelling his uniqueness gave her shivers of excitement. She silently scolded herself for being silly, and then remembered he had asked her a question."Oh, uh, I -I was just trying to prepare myself," she said slowly. "For when you.." her heart rate increased, from fear or enthusiasm she did not know.

"Ah. I would prefer to merely draw you a picture, rather than allow your own imagination make the worst of the situation." He scoffed, acting as if her mind would turn him into a terror. Unbeknownst to him, it already had.

"Yes, that would be lovely." She smiled, wondering how skilled he was at her second favorite past time. Her stomach grumbled, which only made her grin sheepishly. "I'm sorry. Do you think we could finish for today? I don't want to completely abandon my duties to Princess Mary, and I would like some lunch."

He nodded silently. It was still the first day of training, and they did need to gradually work up to more intense exercises. He turned, leaving her to her own devices while he went straight to the library in search of a parchment and quill.

Molly sighed in exasperation. This was not going to be easy, she though as she watched the bouncing ebony curls escape her sight.

At dinner that day, Mary asked Molly who was fortunately back in her serving position, if she enjoyed her morning. Molly breathed out her nervousness. She had not informed anyone of her training, and she was unaware that Sherlock had told anyone. "I did, yes. Thank you, Princess."

Mary eyed her suspiciously, noticing the lack of childish glee Molly usually held. Molly had not even smiled in embarrassment at Mary's question. "What were you doing?" she decided to ask. If John's words were true she would definitely turn pink at this blatant and bold accusation.

Molly turned her eyes away from the Princess. Sherlock had not come to dinner that night, otherwise, Molly would have turned to him for support. "I was observing nature, your highness." It was true, Molly reasoned to herself. Sherlock was a creature, and she was observing him in nature.

Mary grew highly unsatisfied at this. "Molly, I desire your presence in preparing for bed. Please do not neglect your duties again." Harshness did not hide in her statement. It was there, for all to hear. Molly winced at her shame for acting as if her own exploration was more important than her job. She remembered that she did not know what Lord Mycroft had told Princess Mary, so she contented herself to be treated however Princess Mary saw fit.

That night, Molly crept into the Princess' quarters after devouring her own meal. Mary's face was full of hurt and curiosity. "What exactly were you doing today, Molly? And I want the _truth_ this time." Her hands on her hips, Mary was the perfect picture of upset mother hen.

Molly hung her head for the second time that night. "I was helping Sherlock with a project." She took a deep breath. She hated not telling Princess Mary every little detail like how good it felt to be wrapped in Sherlock's scent and to gaze into his amusing eyes. "I-I'm not entirely sure how much I am supposed to tell people about his plans. That's why I can't tell you everything." A tear betrayed Molly, slipping past her cheek. She felt like she was betraying her sister, and it stung to her very core.

"Oh, Molly, why didn't you just say so?" Princess Mary went to wrap the young girl in her arms. "I was just worried you two were having some sort of affair without telling me!" The girlie nature of their friendship crept into her voice with the last sentence. Mary chuckled. "I know how Sherlock can get with his little tests on things and people. You can always tell me anything, you know that, right?" Mary smiled gently as she let go of the maid.

"I know." Molly sighed with relief. "Oh, Princess, it was so wonderful to spend the morning with him!" She grew excited as she delved into her romantic sensibilities with Mary. They talked for until Mary did need to actually get ready for bed, which Molly helped with, as usual.

"Will you see him again tomorrow?" Mary asked cautiously.

"Yes. We will be working on this for a long time, I believe. And he may demand to train with me more throughout the day," she paused as her cheeks flashed. It was the first time she called their time together "training" in front of Mary. She resumed, hoping Mary didn't notice, "But, I make this promise to you. I will always be here to help you at night. Is that an acceptable compromise?"

"Yes, thank you, Molly."

Molly's dreams became full of hope and less or pure horror as her training developed. The sketch of Sherlock in dragon form helped dissipate most of her fear-riddled fantasies. The large wings became majestic as she curled up with the drawing. The horns turned into funnily shaped ears, and the sharp claws were delicate paws she wanted to touch. He was beautiful in the form, and part of her couldn't wait to see him. The other part of her knew how hopelessly in love with his she was becoming and just sighed, shaking her proverbial head.

Finally the time came for her to switch from suppressing his dragon to calling it forth. This was far more difficult, mostly because she had not awoken in her powers yet, Sherlock had explained.

They sat in the cool library as the sun rose. "How will I know when my powers have awoken?" she posed.

"You will know."

"What triggers it? There must be some reason they would be awakened." This thought had been lazily swimming around her mind since the first night of hearing about this.

"No one knows, Molly," Sherlock sighed from his large chair.

"There must be some record of it. The moontradi never figured it out? Did they have some kind of historical writings I could look at?" Molly's persistence was only gaining strength while Sherlock's patience was wearing thin.

"They have no records. Drop. It." Sherlock punctuated each word.

Molly sighed, sensing his annoyance. She just couldn't stop herself. "But, there has to be something. Like, maybe puberty. But I've already been through that. What other biological processes. Maybe touching a dragon? No, you grabbed my arm the other day. What about.." she tapped her finger to her chin, earnestly intent on figuring this out before they started their training for the day.

"Drop. It. Now. If centuries of dragons couldn't figure it out, I highly doubt a human of average intelligence such as yourself will be able to do it before lunch." His tone was pointed and detached.

Molly easily ignored his coldness. He had the ability to say such hurtful things, but Molly knew it was because of his lonely and immortal nature as a dragon in a world full of humans. She forgave him for almost every offense with that thought.

"You're right," she sighed again this time in her own sense of annoyance. "I just want to continue with our training, but its nearly impossible for me to do anything. I try and try, while you get to just stand there, staring at me. It's draining for me, and the stress of protecting everyone floods my mind, making it impossible for me to concentrate." She felt the tension build into a impending downpour on her small face.

"Molly," his voice a clear warning not to cry. He could barely handle the thoughts of those below him, and the emotion in her voice told him he would have to endure emotions as well soon. As the room remained quiet, he stole a glance at her, to be sure she had retrained herself appropriately.

Her face was in shock. Sherlock, confusedly, closed his book with a loud snap, attempting to shake her out of whatever had run through her mind. She remained still. He used his powerful hearing to listen to her heartbeat. It usually increased dramatically whenever he was within a certain distance of her, but that, along with the stutter, had dissipated the past few weeks. It unnerved him how still she was. "Molly," he stated with force. He took one look around the room, to be sure no other creature had crept in behind him. No one was in the room with them. "Molly!" He nearly screamed. She had internally been turned to stone, he reasoned. That was the only way the young girl was able to keep so still. He checked on her heart once again. It beat rapidly still, possibly slightly more rapid that when he first checked. Now, his own concern grew. He stood and swooped down next to her chair. He waved a hand in front of her eyes, hoping the proximity was enough. It wasn't. He could hear her breathing now, rapid like her heartbeat. He moved his face in front of hers to say her name once again, looking into her eyes. Her chilled gaze fixed on him as he did this. He opened his mouth to screech into the space between, when suddenly there was no space between them. Her lips were on his. The shock passed from one to the other. Her eyes closed, while his flew even more open. Her tongue slipped into his open lips, at this his brain had processed the situation, and he jumped back, half falling onto the table behind him. His own heart rate increased.

Molly's eyes opened slowly. Her deep earthy pupils flashed a bright red as she smiled wide at him. "You're so warm," she said softly.

Mycroft suddenly felt a tug in his dragon-self. "Ah, she has done it," he muttered to himself.

Sherlock still in absolute panic, realized he had started to turn. The flick of his tail came up around his arm. His wings pushed against the human skin on his back.

"Molly," he growled, partly satisfied with the turn of events, yet still surprised.

"I figured it out!" She exclaimed, jumping up from her chair to dance in the middle of the room. "Yes! I knew I could do it! Yay!" She clapped her hands to turn towards to slowly turning dragon in front of her. She stopped in her celebration to remember the fear she first possessed at the current situation. He was turning, inside the house. She had to stop him, and quickly, she thought watching the horns tear through his curls and fangs creep out from under his lip.

"Molly stop me, now!" Sherlock's growl became monstrous.

Stop it, she thought. You have no need to come out right now. Go home. "Stop," she said calmly, realizing a verbal command might aid in overriding her excitement.

She could hear his deep breaths as the process started to reverse itself. She sighed in relief and happiness. She couldn't help smiling at that point.

Finally he returned completely normal. His voice became the same cold, calculating tone Molly was so used to. "How did you figure it out?"

"When I was thinking about the times we were trying to awaken me, it seemed like you were bored, not really invested in what was going on. Then I thought about what made the moontradi able to control the dragon form. There was a ... connection built between the two beings. Something deep, more than a human connection. But, you.." she grew silent. She didn't feel comfortable accusing him of the being the reason she was unable to awaken.

"I was disinterested, not allowing for a bond to form. Yes, I see the error now." He simply nodded, sitting in his previous chair. "Tomorrow we will practice calling my dragon forth. Then we will practice on Mycroft."

"Huh? Why Mycroft?" She was always slightly behind when it came to Sherlock.

"You established the bond with me, but you should be able to grow strong enough to call forth an unfamiliar dragon. Hence, my dear brother," he ended with a twinge of a sneer.

"Oh," was her only reply.

"For now rest. We will take a break for the rest of the day and for tomorrow. You will need to gather your strength." His eyes never left the book, yet he never turned a page, Molly noticed.

"Ok." She bit her lower lip, suddenly more worried than she had been before this all started. Now her true training began, at least the potentially deadly part of it.

Sherlock gave her one more glance as she left the library. The subtle way she was able to get close physically and emotionally to Sherlock astounded him.

That night, Molly was in Princess Mary's room. "I kissed him." Molly couldn't hold it in anymore. Mary's face lit up.

"How was it!?" She giggled, expecting a similar reaction from her friend. Molly just stared at the floor. Mary was torn between waiting for an answer or asking if something was wrong.

"It was the most fantastic thing in my entire life." Molly quietly replied. She sighed heavily. "But, he didn't enjoy it. So, it will never happen again."

Mary's face fell. She knew this Sherlock. The Sherlock who played games with Lady Irene out of pure boredom, yet never cared for her. The Sherlock that never allowed himself to care for or about anyone. Mary thought since the beginning of Molly's training that Sherlock had grown softer, started to care for maybe one petite maid. Her disappointment started to infect her giddy heart. "How do you know he didn't like it? Did you ask him?" Mary knew Molly could be fiercely intelligent, sweet, and courageous when the circumstances were right. That was the only reason they were friends. Mary wouldn't suffer anyone who was less, but she also knew Molly's shyness overcame those strengths at times, making her stumble and stay silent at crucial times.

Molly looked away from Mary. "No. But he ended it, and.." Molly didn't want to admit this to herself, but she knew Mary would know how to handle everything."And the look on his face afterwards was just pure terror." Molly laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

Mary shook her head silently until Molly quieted down from her hysteria. "Molly, I know Sherlock. I know that sometimes he doesn't understand these types of things for himself. It would probably be best just to talk to him about it. He may need more time to process it, but then you would actually get a feel about what he's thinking. Just trust me on this." Mary pleaded with her friend with her eyes.

Molly took a deep breath. She should talk to Sherlock. Plus, their training took a huge leap. They need to explore it soon, to help with the other dragon problem.

The next morning, the fog lazily hung around the clearing where Molly and Sherlock had taken to practicing. Molly stepped forward, looking for her own tall, dark, and mysterious. Not seeing anyone, she felt a tug in her gut. Something was wrong. She looked down at her hands at the note. It said to meet in the clearing earlier than the usual time and was signed by Sherlock. She found it underneath her door as she went to bed last night. Confused, she looked around once more before heading back inside to find the man. A sound like the beating of rugs boomed behind her. She turned to see a large shadow coming through the fog. Her heart sped up at the shadow's shape. She remembered Sherlock's drawing, stepping back to allow for the creature to land. It didn't though. Instead, it lowered its forelegs to pick up the poor handmaiden in a flurry. In the next second, Molly was high off the ground, grasping desperately at the sharp dark brown talons wrapped around her.

After about ten minutes, Molly sensed the dragon was descending past the clouds. She saw a small cave entrance at the end of the woods. The dragon lowered to about half a tree's height and dropped the handmaiden to the grassy meadow. She made a small shocked scream, which drew out the cave's inhabitant.

"Well, well. Look at what we have here. The little opinionated handmaid. How quaint. I take it you are the moontradi that has been controlling Sherlock, then?" The owner of the silky and sultry voice sauntered in front of Molly. She gasped as she recognized the well-dressed woman.

"Lady Irene! You knew Sherlock was a dragon?"

She chuckled lowly. "Of course. I make it a point to research all potential lovers. Sherlock never kept his secret as quiet as he made you think. He was playing you, poor girl." She looked on Molly with pity and amusement in her hazel eyes.

"You know the dragon who dropped me off here then?" Molly stood up, ready for whatever this manipulative woman would have up her sleeve.

"Yes, indeed I do. And I know what's going to happen next." She continued towards the girl, slowly pulling a rope from behind her back.

A few hours later, Molly found herself tied to a wooden chair with a blindfold around her eyes. She heard strong, male footsteps entering the cave.

"Good evening, Sir. The prisoner is ready for you." Lady Irene greeted her master.

The man must have nodded in return because he said nothing. She felt the cold tip of a dagger slide down her face.

"Well, Lady Irene. This must be my birthday because before us sits the last descendant of the ancient tribe of moontradi. Lucky me!" His high-pitched laugh grated on Molly's ears. "Now, what shall we do with her?"

Lady Irene responded hesitantly. "Sir, are we not just going to kill her?"

He laughed manically. "Of course not! This is the one person who could control both Holmes men! Why would we kill her! You tried, and succeeded with one, but failed due to the other's influence. This one can force both to change or not at the same time! Alright. That's it. Little miss Molly," he tapped the dagger's edge with each syllable, "I want you to call forth both their dragons."

Lady Irene's voice sounded panicked. "What about you, Sir?"

He chuckled lowly. "Oh, Miss Molly can specify who she calls forth. Can't you, darling?"

Molly felt a cold shiver down her spine as he drew out the last word. "I,I d-d-don't know." She whispered.

A change came over her captor. "Well, try." He angrily stated while pushing his dagger against her throat.

Molly started to worry about her well-being, but she realized that if she could call forth one before the other, than the other one would know something was wrong. But which one to try for first? Mycroft could manipulate the general public quickly, and she did have a stronger bond to Sherlock. However, there was no guarantee that either one would know something was wrong before the other fully turned. Molly nodded to herself. She knew Sherlock would warn his brother somehow before he fully turned. She called to him in her mind.

 _Sherlock, where are you? Come find me. Please. Turn_ , she emphasized the last.

Sherlock felt the tug of turning as he and Mycroft, along with the rest of the soldiers, were on the road scouring for his Molly.

"John, Mycroft," Sherlock called. "Molly's calling to me to turn. It must be Moriarty. He's forcing her to use her powers. I can't resist." he strained the last sentence as his voice become impossibly deep. John grew slightly frightened as he saw Sherlock's eyes grow yellow.

In the next minute, Sherlock's body transformed into a formidable beast. He took off, following his master's order to find her.

"After him!" Mycroft called to his company.

"Well, how are you doing, Good Golly Miss Molly?" Lord Richard Brooke's soft tones did not put Molly at ease.

"I'm trying," she cried into the darkness.

"I see him! He's almost here!" Lady Irene called from the entrance of the cave.

"Lovely!" Lord Brooke clapped his hands.

As he went to the entrance, he turned to Lady Irene. "Now, you can kill her," he grinned.

Sherlock's dragon self heard the words of the puny man, and he roared in fury. No one would hurt his master.

Molly heard the monstrous roar, and her heart soared. Sherlock was here! She thought to herself that she hoped Sherlock would just toss both of the people by the opening out of the way to grab her and pull her to safety. Almost immediately after she had the thought, she felt herself flying through the air once more in another set of talons. She rejoiced once more inwardly. "Let's go home," she said to him. A small grunt from the creature above her was the only response.

* * *

The sound of Mycroft's pacing echoed in his quiet study. Princess Mary turned to glance at Sir John, who turned to look at Sherlock, who was captivated by Molly. Molly's attention remained on the elder Lord Holmes. Princess Mary whispered to Sir John, "We still don't know who the dragon terrorizing the city was. And why would Lord Brooke even go through the trouble to capture Molly?"

"I.." Molly took a deep gulp, "I felt something." The entire room focused on the young woman. "The dragon who took me to the caves, felt familiar. Like I've met him before. And when I called Sherlock in my mind, I could feel Lord Mycroft and something else too. Something close by, but hidden, like in a fog."

Lord Mycroft held his chin in thought at the new information. Sherlock asked Molly, "And you said Lord Brooke is the mastermind behind all this?" He faced the Lord Mycroft. "Could he be Moriarty? Even if he is, how would he have control of the dragon?"

Lord Mycroft closed his eyes. "We both know he could have easily have control over the human part of the dragon. Blackmail is his specialty, even in court."

Princess Mary gasped, grabbing the knee of Sir John. "Could... he... be...?" she said slowly.

Sherlock's eyes grew in understanding. "The dragon, of course! And why Molly could feel him close. But, he would've taken precautions so as not to let her control _him_." Sherlock jumped up, clapping his hands. "Yes! Of course! Idiot! Why didn't we see this before!" Sherlock turned toward the other occupants in the room. "Don't you see?! It's so obvious!"

Sir John rolled his eyes, "Well just tell us, you git!"

Molly covered her amused grin behind her hand. Sherlock grabbed Molly's shoulders, staring at her intensely. "Molly, could Lord Brooke _be_ the dragon you felt?"

Molly almost forgot the question he asked, lost in his deep timbre and intense sea-foam eyes. "Hmm..?"

"Lord Brooke. The dragon," he repeated with finality. "Could they be one in the same?"

Molly forced herself to focus as she heard some hushed snickering from the Princess and the Knight. She took a breath, "It's possible. He was so very close to me, but if he did something that tried to prevent me from controlling him, than that could've given me that foggy feeling." She nodded her head to reaffirm her thinking. "What do we do now?" She asked the room.

Lord Mycroft spoke up. "We have to draw him out. Apparently he wants some type of leverage over us, and he believes that rests in you, Miss Hooper. Now that his human cover is blown, he will most likely go into hiding. However, if we can make him somehow believe he once again has the upper hand, he will strike."

Princess Mary stood. "What if we kill Molly?" Molly shrieked with fear and betrayal. "Not, really, Molly. Just pretend," she sent her dear friend a comforting smile.

Lord Mycroft nodded in agreement. "Yes, and Sherlock would be the one to do it." This time, it was Sherlock's yelp of indignation that caught the room's attention. "Well, you are the younger and more out of control one. Plus, Moriarty would feel the need to gloat over your imprisonment and mistake. That should be enough to get him where we want him."

Molly shyly asked, "What does pretending to kill me entail.. exactly?"

Sherlock scoffed at the lack of a response from the two schemers. "Probably just a staging, Molly. At least some sort of rumor. If we are really dedicated, maybe even a body."

Sir John's voice raised with his doubt at the plan, "And where would we even get a body to be Molly?"

Sherlock started to answer, but Princess Mary interrupted him, "We could just stuff a doll or something." Everyone except Molly seemed to be in agreement.

Molly then carefully asked the last most pertinent question. "What will happen once Moriarty is where we want him?"

Lord Mycroft's imposing figure loomed over Molly's short stature. "That is where you come in, Miss Hooper."

* * *

Everything had gone according to plan. The act of Sherlock transforming into his dragon form "killing" Molly, and being imprisoned. Now, the only thing left to do was to wait for Lord Brooke to show up and gloat over Sherlock's weakness. Which was what Molly was doing at the moment, hiding in a dark dusty closet near the dungeons, waiting. Her nerves had calmed after the first five hours, and now she was just covered in old wood smell and bored. Almost as bored as Sherlock was. She could hear him "trying" to escape with the various items he had found in the cell. A left shoe, a small piece of termite-infested wood, and a piece of moldy carrot had all met their doom at the hands of a bored Sherlock Holmes. Molly only knew this because every so often she would hear him scream, "Bloody, moldy carrot!" or "Bloody old shoe lace!"

Finally, she heard it. A tip tap of high priced leather soles hitting the stone underfoot, coming towards her. She held her breath silently, while her heart pounded a drum beat. The click clap stopped at about where she imagined Sherlock was.

"Well, well, well, poor Sherlock. Fancy meeting you here. Heard you were a naughty little boy. I wonder what big brother had to say about that." He maniacal chuckle caused shivers down Molly's bare arms. "Truly a tragedy that. Losing the last one. Could've been exceeding useful. Oh, well." Molly could imagine the feral grin Lord Brooke was serving Sherlock.

Sherlock's bored tone did not seem artificial. "Yes, oh well. I suppose your little plan is out the window at this point, Moriarty," Sherlock spat the name with venom.

Hearing Sherlock's voice brought Molly back to her predicament. She remembered her job. While ignoring the voices around her, she concentrated on using her powers to connect with Moriarty's dragon, and hopefully, control him as well. She felt Sherlock's dragon start to boil in anger at the presence of Moriarty, but she turned her focus to the fog. It was still there, yet now that Molly knew what it was, she could trudge past it. Her heart was wavering. It felt wrong. Something about this dragon was slimy. It didn't feel pure like Sherlock's or even Mycroft's. She pushed past the oddness and stickiness surrounding her mind to finally reach the animal underneath it. She pushed on the beast, telling it to follow her commands. It reacted with a force. The movement of the thing in her mind made her realize that this beast was not a real dragon. In reality, it smelled, looked, and felt like a dragon that time it picked her up. However, here, it was nothing more than a shadow of the spirit of a dragon. Molly gasped in realization, giving away her hiding spot. She heard footsteps approach her closet, along with the squeak of mental hinges a minute after the commencement of the footsteps. Before leaving her mind completely, she gave a mental stab to the shadow spirit, proud to see it poof into thin air. The moment she did, a scream was wrenched from the body of Lord Brooke.

Sherlock watched in confusion as he swept past the slumped body of the Lord to where Molly had placed herself. Just as he arrived, she opened the door hesitantly. Sherlock wrapped her up in his arms.

"What happened? What did you do to him? Are you alright? For a second I was so afraid you were battling with him mentally. There were secondary affects to controlling him, are there?" Sherlock's speech flowed over her head as he squeezed her body, deeply inhaling her scent.

Molly allowed herself a smile at his concern. "I'm fine, Sherlock. I just realized he really wasn't a dragon."

Sherlock's perplexed face came into her line of vision. "What do you mean? We saw him in the city? He killed people, Molly. He carried you leagues..?"

Molly nodded. "Yes, he did all those things, but something else made him into a dragon. He wasn't born one like you or Lord Mycroft. I don't know how, but I was able to take the dragon spirit away from him."

Sherlock's clear aquamarine eyes befell this powerful and awe-inspiring maid before him. "Molly, you are..." Sherlock sighed slightly, "perfect."

Molly grinned widely, as Sherlock leaned in to give Molly the second official kiss of her lifetime.


End file.
